


In Which Sherlock Adopts a Cat (And Jim Hates It)

by koalawhisperer



Series: Jimlock Fluff [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalawhisperer/pseuds/koalawhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock brings home a cat as part of an experiment on how to completely eliminate shedding. The cat, for some reason, loves Jim. Don't ask him why, he hates the bloody thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Sherlock Adopts a Cat (And Jim Hates It)

**Author's Note:**

> This came from another Tumblr prompt!

"Alright, come on," Sherlock said, looking down at the black and white cat that he’d gotten from the rescue shelter. He was conducting an experiment involving a chemical he was in the process of creating. It would, should it work, eliminate shedding altogether while being harmless to the cat. However, that also involved getting a cat home, and Sherlock wasnot being very successful. No matter how hard he pleaded or how firm he was, the cat stood there like some sort of simpleton. Sherlock glared down at the cat as the cat looked sweetly up at him, purring softly. This was why he usually hated cats. Impossible to train. "I said,  _come on_! Bloody stupid cat..."

The cat looked up at Sherlock and gave a rather loud meow, as though talking back to him. With a resigned sort of sound, Sherlock picked up the cat and carried it into the flat he shared with Jim. Oh, he knew this was not going to go well, especially if the cat got on Jim’s suits. His partner always made sure that his suits were in pristine condition, and cat hair would certainly destroy that. And they scratched. Sherlock had gotten a scratching post, but there was no guarantee that the cat would actually use it. Jim's office was made of very expensive furniture, and he could imagine his partner's rage should the cat decide that mahogany made a better scratching post than the one he'd bought. He took a deep breath to steady himself and entered the flat, cat squirming beneath his arm in a desperate bid to get free from the restraint.

As soon as Jim heard Sherlock enter, he looked up, his face becoming one of disgust as soon as he saw the squirming feline under Sherlock’s arm. “What the  _hell_  is that?” Jim sneered, eyeing the cat as though it were some sort of disgusting mutant instead of a cuddly pet. "And why is it in our flat?"

"Obviously, it is a cat," Sherlock said dismissively, letting the cat free so it could get used to its new home. "I told you I was bringing one here so I could work on my chemical."

"Yes, I know what it is!" Jim snapped as he eyed the creature warily. It came over to him and began to rub on his legs as Jim pursed his lips and shot it a wicked glare. Sherlock was secretly delighted that the cat liked Jim, but he didn't dare show it. Jim obviously already hated it. "And I know exactly what it’s going to do. It’s going to scratch up every bit of furniture in the flat, it won’t stop licking itself, and it’s going to shed all over my Westwood."

"I’ve gotten it a scratching post," Sherlock said as he knelt down to pet the cat before it jumped up onto Jim’s lap and nuzzled against his stomach, much to Jim’s annoyance. "And of course it’s not going to stop licking itself. That is how they groom themselves, and there’s no way to tell that it’ll choose your Westwood as a bed. Everything is going to be fine."

Jim shot Sherlock a nasty look, brown eyes flashing as he shook his head. “We’ll see about that,” he said as the cat curled up on his lap. Jim shooed the cat away and returned to his work, glaring darkly at it as Sherlock poured some food into the bowl. “You’d best stay away from me,” he said to the cat. "If you know what's good for you." Sherlock was incredibly lucky that Jim wouldn't dare take away his intellectual pursuits; if he was one to do that, the cat would be gone. 

_One day later…_

"SHERLOCK!" Jim yelled as he came into his office and got a look at his furniture. His very expensive furniture. His very expensive and very  _ruined_ furniture. He glared angrily at the tuxedo cat as it sat on the wingback chair, looking as though it owned the world. The cat had scratched up every single bit of furniture in his office, from the pure mahogany desk to the matching bookshelf and everything in between. He was already irritable from a lack of sleep; the cat had insisted on sleeping on the foot of the bed he shared with Sherlock and then proceeded to keep the criminal up half the night licking itself as well as attempting to snuggle. One didn’t realise just how noisy a cat’s licking could be until it kept one up in the middle of the night. On top of that, the cat had decided that four in the morning was a good time to jump onto the dresser and alert Jim to his presence. "You are  _gone_."

Sherlock grimaced when he heard Jim’s angry cry, putting his chemicals down and heading into Jim’s office. He was met with a very, very angry Jim, a Jim with a murderous expression on his face and eyes glinting with disgust as he sank into his office chair. His own eyes widened when he saw what the cat had done. Scratches everywhere. Jim’s priceless furniture, ruined. “Jim, I apologise —"

"I don’t care!" Jim raged as the cat began to clean itself. Again. How many times did a cat need to do that in a day? Even worse, the cat raised its back leg to groom, revealing that it was most certainly a male. Once it decided the grooming session was done, the cat hopped lightly from the chair to Jim’s lap and curled up, quite content with itself. "And why the hell does it keep doing this? I don’t like it, why does it like me?" Jim jabbed his hands down at the cat on his lap.

"The cat has taste," Sherlock mused dryly. "It prefers fine furniture, and I admire its taste in human companions."

"Buttering me up isn’t going to make this better," Jim said as he shooed the cat away only to end up with the thing back on his lap again, curled in a ball of black and white fur. "I swear, if you didn’t need this thing, he’d be dead." Sherlock merely smirked with satisfaction, pleased that Jim would do anything to allow Sherlock to keep his intellectual pursuits, even if it meant keeping a cat that he obviously hated.

_The next morning..._

The next day, Jim had a rather important meeting with a Russian client who promised to pay handsomely should things go well. Jim certainly could use that money since he either had to repair or replace the furniture in his office, and that would cost quite a bit. As such, it was very important that Jim look his best, so he deemed it time to pull out one of his Westwood suits. After all, impressions were incredibly valuable in his line of work. Humming a Bach sonata softly to himself, Jim opened his closet to find none other than Sherlock’s cat curled up on the floor, purring contentedly as it looked up at Jim. “You bloody cat, I swear, if you’ve shed on my clothes…” Jim looked through his clothes; sure enough, there was black and white cat hair on every single one. Jim glared down at the cat as it rubbed against him, expecting affection. “Go away!” he said angrily. “You ruined every. Single. One of my suits.”

Of course, the cat didn’t listen. It looked at Jim and meowed loudly, still rubbing on his legs. “No! I don’t like you, I’ve never liked you, I’m never _going_  to like you!” The cat merely looked up at Jim, eyes wide and purring loudly, as though saying “But I’ll always love you!”


End file.
